Thursday, 28 June 2018

"Why Shouldn't a Boy Ride his Scooter?"

Sunlight strikes back from virginal brickwork stinging the face and drawing blood from eyelids,
Bright red occults yellow,
Once green foliage flashes against cheeks now flushing like a near heard closet,
Radiant pavement climbs calves and under shorts warming buttocks whilst flowers try their blooms in ones and twos,
Little wheels on hard almost smooth grains grind;
"Why shouldn't a boy ride his scooter?"

Monoped propelled,
Gripping soft warm plastic,
Lungs work the blue whip-lashed above as houses open to whispering grasses,
Hairs prickling,
Occasionally jabbing attentive sentries breeze,
Along the silver steed bounds to sniff a stream and bear off until sandalled feet span both worlds;
"Why shouldn't a boy ride his scooter?"

Sudden penetration marks the point like time of departure and shouts its warning inside ears smashing into the heart,
Straps from a ruck-sac rub chafing against the siren call,
Hold waves and juggle in the mind a dance of sparkling bright against obeisant hills,
Residencies turn their visages away inquiring within of empty vessels;
"Why shouldn't a boy ride his scooter?"

Pushing off,
Beating quicker now upon the path bestrides water flicking up splashing cool,
Real scents struggle through the low laid miasmic impatient curse of man's division,
Rattling truly as graveled sand crashes beneath nature bows and sways,
Touching gently grazing flesh;
"Why shouldn't a boy ride his scooter?"

Slowly rising,
Reaching to the azure vault woodland offers a deepening embrace,
Beginning to jazz zipping insects hum moistened air,
Breath comes more expansive and nutritious,
Under shade a chance to stop,
Dismounts and rests against a welcoming trunk,
Leans the mount the same;
"Why shouldn't a boy ride his scooter?"




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